Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by GoddessOfOlympia
Summary: Shane Schofield has a secret that still remains hidden to this very day, after the events of the bounty hunt. Only one person has ever been able to discover it when Schofield was a young recruit - will someone else, after all these years, destroy his career with this secret? Slash, Schofield/OC, Schofield/Knight


**Author's Note:** So this was done for the Easter Exchange, organised by the wonderful Bastetian and I was given the challenge of writing slash in the Schofield series – something I've not done before. Sorry most of it is hosted in a flashback, I'm not very experienced at this. It does end on an awkward cliffhanger because I'm in a hurry to post this and couldn't write the ending I wanted quick enough – but I'll be sure to add another chapter rounding off the fic as soon as I get a chance. Hope you enjoyed it!

* * *

"And then, Scarecrow leaps off the motherfucking cliff!" Mother was animatedly gesturing, arms flying everywhere to the rest of their group. They were seated on lawn chairs around a small backyard behind Mother's house. The man in question, Captain Shane 'Scarecrow' Schofield gave an enigmatic half smile as the members of his platoon turned to look at him.

"Sounds like something he'd do, crazy bastard," Book II added after a moment, glancing seriously at his captain. "But it worked, I assume?"

"Of course it bloody well worked, do you think he'd be sitting here if it didn't?" Mother demanded in an outraged tone.

"I could be sitting here but I might not be in one piece," Schofield said wryly as he stood. They were gathered together to celebrate Mother's birthday – they being his team and his friends. Mother, his gunnery sergeant and probably his closest friend in their team was the one recounting his heroic story from their first traumatic mission.

His late best friend, Buck 'Book' Riley's son now sat in his place, serious eyes darting around the room, always watching. Sprawled out on the couch was a young soldier named Rebound. He'd left the service in the same mission that Mother had lost her leg in, but been completely willing to return to celebrate this event. Aloysius Knight had made a surprise appearance, but he'd quickly been welcomed into the fray. He sat on the edge of his seat, looking both perfectly at ease and like he was about to make a run for it at any moment.

Ralph, Mother's husband, stood diligently at the barbeque, cooking for the large group of hungry soldiers. And then there was where Libby Gant should have been sitting, but in actuality, there was only an empty space. She had been lost last mission and Schofield had felt for a while that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for her death. But eventually, the pain had lifted and she'd just become another friend who should still be alive.

Schofield remembered Mother's whispered words a fair while back, saying Libby was soft for him. He was surprised but didn't act on her words, and now, clearly, it was too late. Schofield almost felt ashamed for thinking it but he was… relieved. Libby Gant wasn't his type. Libby was female.

Schofield had always been relatively comfortable with his sexuality. He was a confident man, it was one of the reasons why he'd been elevated through the ranks so quickly. He'd always been okay with the fact he was gay.

However, the army had entirely different opinions on this. It had always been a secret and no one had ever been able to discover it. Schofield was a closed book who had an incredible ability to keep certain parts of him locked away.

As soon as the thought had left his mind, he amended it. No one had ever been able to discover it, save for one person. But Schofield didn't want to think about that, not while he was enjoying himself.

"Dinner's up!" Ralph called as he manoeuvred the food onto plastic plates. The hungry marines surged forward to the barbeque. Schofield pulled himself up and went into the house as unobtrusively as possible as they began chatting loudly. He didn't notice Knight following him as he walked into the kitchen. He gripped the side of the cool metal sink, staring at his warped reflection.

It was unusual to say that Schofield jumped slightly when Knight spoke. "Needed to get out of there for a moment?"

Schofield could see himself in the amber glasses the mercenary wore. "Yes, that was the plan," he said, heavily implying he'd like to be left alone.

Knight smirked, leaning against the counter opposite Schofield. "They'll come looking for you soon." Schofield wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Knight. He'd helped to save his life, helped his entire team when he'd been on the world's greatest bounty hunt last year. His henchman Rufus had told Schofield of his somewhat horrific end to enlisted service, so he had to feel some sympathy for him. But the truth was, Knight was still very much a mystery to him – some would even say the direct mirror to Schofield.

Schofield chose not to reply to his comment until Knight spoke again. "What are you running from?" he asked, and as Schofield opened his mouth to object, he cut across him. "Don't tell me you're not. Anyone could tell. You're running scared, Scarecrow."

What was he running from? What indeed…

* * *

Schofield stood in a line with the other trainees. The expressions on their faces showed just how eager they were to attain their goals – and become pilots. Shane Schofield was just 22 and had almost completed the training he went through to become a pilot. His face was clear of any scars and he'd attracted a fair bit of female attention at the military base with his dark hair and piercing yet brooding blue eyes – all of which he'd promptly ignored.

Even then, Schofield was not nervous by nature. He accepted that a situation could either work out perfectly or spectacularly explode and that he had to let it be. He didn't know why today of all days, he felt as though the latter would occur.

Captain Mitchel Parris walked down the line of trainees, calling for them to stand to attention. Parris was generally liked by the recruits and seemed to have garnered as much attention as Schofield based purely on his looks and his cheeky temperament. He was also one of the top pilots the U.S. boasted currently, which made him an ideal role model for many of the recruits. When he arrived in front of Schofield, he paused a moment, surveying him. Schofield resisted the urge to shift his position and looked up to meet his eyes clearly.

He'd studied Captain Mitchel Parris many times during training before he could stop his eyes from wandering. He didn't intend for it to happen, it just did; he had tousled blonde hair and like most soldiers, absolutely fit. While he was surrounded by attractive males every day, he wasn't _attracted _to all of them in the slightest, a myth that heterosexuals had seemed to be concerned with in the past. It worked exactly the same way as if Schofield had have been straight – he wouldn't have immediately wanted to get with every female he saw. But apparently, in some cases, it was impossible for people to see past this.

"Schofield. Report to my office in ten minutes," he said and Schofield saluted him respectfully. Internally, he was running every possible reason why this could have occurred. Maybe someone had died? Fuck. He hoped to high hell that wasn't it.

After the recruits were dismissed, Schofield could feel their eyes on him every step of the way as he left the large room they were collected in. He walked down the hallway, moderating his pace. The doorknob was cool beneath his hand as he turned it and stepped into the office.

Parris was leaning against the front side of his desk, a charmingly elegant smile on his face. The blazer he wore over his air force uniform was draped over the back of the chair, leaving him in just a white shirt, tie and pants. God knows how many women had succumbed to that smile. Just for a moment, Schofield wished he was like Parris. Maybe he'd fit in that way better, he wouldn't have to be constantly paranoid and cautious. But it wasn't the way he was made.

"You wanted to see me sir?" he asked.

Parris took his sweet time replying to Schofield's question. Schofield merely remained as still as he had in the line outside, perhaps even more rigidly so. "I'm to understand that you're an only child, correct?"

Schofield was slightly concerned at the nature of the question but nodded his head.

"And your report says that your father is dead and you have no close personal ties with anyone before you joined the army?"

"Sir, I don't understand how this is—."

"Am I to assume there's no fiancée or girlfriend back home who would get terribly upset if we sent you on a mission after your training was complete?" Parris' eyes glinted and Schofield's entire body tensed further still. There was something almost… Schofield cut off the thought before it could complete itself in his head. He was overthinking this.

"No sir," he replied, his tone controlled and flat. This was skirting far too close to something he'd thought he'd hidden so well. No one knew he was gay here, he couldn't have had that around if he wanted to enter the army.

"Schofield, I'm sure you've heard of the 'don't ask, don't tell' campaign," Parris continued brazenly and Schofield felt his blood chill. Everything he'd worked for over these past 18 months was about to be gone. He'd never be able to fulfil his life's dream of following his grandfather's career. How the fuck did they know? "And I think you know about it better than most."

"Sir, I don't know what you're—." Schofield tried to get an excuse out, to at least salvage the situation but the words stilled in his mouth as Parris crossed the room in two short yet powerful steps, standing right in front of Schofield.

Schofield barely realised his breathing had become heavier as Parris spoke again. He was close enough for Schofield to feel his breath against his skin.

"If you don't ask, I won't tell," Parris said in a low voice before kissing Schofield hard on the mouth. Schofield was so surprised, he took a step back and hit the door. Parris followed him, his mouth moving easily against Schofield's. Schofield felt blood rush to his cheeks and tried to suppress the feeling of desire that surged through him at the other man's actions.

They couldn't do this. Hell, he didn't know _why_ Parris was doing this. They'd both end up with an honourable discharge at best, as not to raise suspicion but knowing the cruelty of the army towards homosexuals, dishonourable would be more likely.

But a small part of Schofield wanted this so fucking much. It had been months since he'd even kissed someone, and just the feeling of lips against his, especially skilled lips like Parris' was enough to make him want to continue. It was only a matter of time before Schofield was kissing him back, his own hand coming up to wind through the messy blonde hair.

Without thinking, he shifted slightly from where he was being held against the door. He didn't take into account exactly how close proximity was in and startled slightly when Parris let out a light moan as their groins rubbed together. He froze in the kiss for a moment, a million thoughts running through his head, the most prevalent being _I made him make that sound. I want to make him make it again_. To a normally reserved soldier like Schofield, this lust induced thought was slightly worrying to him.

The pause in the kiss made Parris slowly pull away, his eyes locking with Schofield's. His face was similarly flushed and his breathing was heavy and harsh in the silence off the office.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be scared of a challenge, Schofield," he said.

"Is it really appropriate to call this a challenge, sir?" Schofield retorted, the honorific used out of habit. Parris let out a lazy chuckle.

"Do you really think it's _appropriate_ that you address me as your commanding officer in this situation?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. Schofield coloured slightly.

"I don't think we should be doing this," Schofield said in a flat tone, trying to maintain his composure and ignore what his body was telling him he should be doing.

"Alright then," Parris said. "We won't do this."

Schofield glanced at him, slightly suspicious the other man had let it go so quickly.

"You can blow me instead."

Very little surprised Shane Schofield, even in his youth, but this certainly did.

"I can what?"

"Blow me, Schofield. If you want to, that is." He said it in such an offhand tone, so casually that Schofield would have laughed if he wasn't so nervous. It should have made him feel slightly unsettled that he wasn't averse to the idea, that his heart beat sped up when Parris said the words. He folded his arms as an outward sign to obscure his inner conflict.

"How did you even know I was…" He paused, halfway through speaking, even now not wanting to incriminate himself. "Why would you think I was gay?"

Parris shrugged. "Easy enough, most soldiers don't tend to hide their pasts before the army and you were no different. We were running a final check to see if there was anything unexpected we should know about you. I ended up meeting a kid called Alex. He's studying at MIT, he was very interested to hear you'd joined the army. Said it surprised him for one reason – can you guess why?"

"Because I'm gay," Schofield said flatly. There was no use denying it, not if he'd spoken to Alex. "And do you always take advantage of soldiers who you find out are gay?"

Parris chuckled again. "Schofield, from the way you kissed me back, I would say you were just as happy with the situation as I was. So what's it to be?"

Schofield's eyes met his again, before flickering to his crotch. He took an uncertain step towards him. Then another. His hand went to the top of his military dress and loosened the tie, before he undid the first button of the white shirt. Smooth, toned skin peeked out from beneath the gap and Schofield move to the next, sliding his hand against the skin between the buttons. He could feel Parris' heartbeat thrumming just as expectantly as Schofield's had been minutes ago.

Then the door swung open.


End file.
